When the Dead Walk: Drabbles and Sidestories
by TomorrowsEpiphany
Summary: These are sidestories that may not fit with the overarching story of When the Dead Walk. These all take place in that universe. There will be slash. Please enjoy!


The Six Times Chekov was kissed and the One time he did the kissing

Scotty:

He can hear the rain on the old rooftops of the ruins. The pitter and patter used to soothe him if he were at the settlement, in the small hut he shares with McCoy and Kirk. Instead he is now close to panicking.

His tools shake a little, most likely from his heart, which may burst from his chest at any moment. He can hear the scraping behind them. The dead are on the other side, hungry.

McCoy and Kirk are trying to reenforce the door, while Spock and Uhura are looking for any other way out. A rock slide has blocked their original path, and Scotty and Sulu are trying hard to move some of the concrete bits away.

This is the last barrier. If the dead got through...

Chekov's blur of thoughts are interrupted by cool lips against his cheek, chaste but lingering.

Scotty's smile is shy.

"For luck," is all the man says.

McCoy:

It has been a long day. They had to retreat from a nest midway through, and the disappointment is palpable. McCoy is back at the hospital and checking everyone's vitals. They are scrapped up, and will have to hold off any other ventures for a little while.

Chekov is last, the kid is skittish sometimes, so McCoy lets him go last so the others aren't there. He is banged up, and will have a more than a few bruises, one already coloring under his left eye.

"I am sorry, doctor,"

Chekov hangs his head, and stares at the floor. Poor kid.

"No, I'd rather be taking care of everyone than out there sniping or scouting. It's a good break. You need to take advantage of it. Relax a little, too,"

Chekov shakes his head furiously, his curls bouncing.

"It was all my fault. Mr. Scott nearly got...for me! How can I face him? Everyone? We could have-"

"No one knew that area was that densely packed with those things. Not even Spock. Blaming yourself will only put more stress on yourself, Chekov. Your vitals are already erratic, and you are going to have plenty of bruises and cuts,"

McCoy cleans a cut, causing Chekov to wince. The boy tries to hide it as soon as he realizes it.

"They have to be cleaned, daily. Since they are everywhere you are going to need help. You can get someone or stop by here. You know how important it is,"

McCoy shoots him a look while, Chekov nods with a pout. The boy has no idea how cute he looks. Pity.

"Hey," McCoy whispers, before placing a kiss on the boy's forehead. "Take it easy for a second,"

He then presses his forehead to Chekov's.

"Just breathe," he tells him.

Sulu:

Scotty's in high spirits and passing out what would be considered alcohol. It's nothing compared to what they used to have before the dead came, but it's better than the last batch he and Keenser have made. They will save most of it for further aging but tonight they can celebrate. A new nest has been cleared out and two survivors found in the outskirts today.

Sulu has not had alcohol in a long long time. He knows that his tolerance is shot, but he doesn't care. They are alive and that is what really matters. He's explained this loudly to Chekov who is hesitantly sipping at his glass.

"You can't let it go to waste, Chekov,"

"Sorry, I really have not drank too very much. I was not allowed to at home. Only at family things,"

"All the more reason to drink now!"

"Mr. Sulu, I think you are drunk,"

The dark haired man eyes him and winks. Chekov shivers at it. He's never been paid that kind of attention here. Not since before everything, his mind is other things. Too much though about survival and such.

"Maybeeee,"

Sulu doesn't give him time to think or blush further. He leans over and plants a kiss on his lips. Their lips linger together, and then brush again softly. Chekov's knees feel oddly weak. Thankfully, they are sitting. He vaguely wonders if their teammates are watching, but the lips against his wipe the worry from his mind completely.

Uhura:

The settlement is calm today and the sun is shining in the sky. Scotty does not have any work for him so Chekov is off with Uhura shopping for dinner. He likes Uhura, she is kind and does not treat him like a child.

"So, what should we make for dinner?"

"What is your favorite dish, Ms Uhura?"

"Just Uhura, we're friends remember?"

Chekov nods and she smiles back. It's a nice feeling.

"I do not know about you, Chekov, but my mother used to make a mean curry chicken,"

"Indian food?"

"Yep, that and making a lot is easy so everyone will have plenty,"

Plenty is a word they don't get to use often. Usually, they have to scrim just to make do, but the harvest of the farms has been good, and the team has cleaned at least three nests recently so Marcus's payment has been good.

"Let's see," Uhura smirks. "We will need potatoes, carrots, onions, curry powder, chicken, and a few other spices,"

They gather the ingredients and chat as they do. Uhura likes spending time with Chekov. He is kind and listens well. He has come a little out of his shell since he arrived, now different than that scared scrawny Russian boy in the rain.

They find a small animal while on the way to getting the chicken. A small furry little thing, that coos when they pet it. It looks more like a ball of fur than anything.

"Can we keep it?"

Chekov's eyes are pleading. He has always wanted a pet since he was small.

"Spock would say a pet is illogical, but look at it!" she coos.

"Mr Keenser could watch him when we are away,"

"Let's keep it! We'll introduce this cutie pie at dinner,"

They bring the supplies to the hut that Uhura,and Spock share. Instead of small it seems more cozy today, and preparing the food is more fun than a chore. Once it is all ready the others pile in. Five hungry faces are looking at them.

"They are going to love it. You know you are going to make someone really happy one day. You would be an awesome boyfriend,"

With that she grins and gives him a little kiss on the nose. Dinner is going to be wonderful.

Spock:

It was only logical to split up. That is what Spock keeps telling himself. If they had stuck together,like Kirk had wanted, but the dead would have caught up or tracked them back. They aren't smart, but not entirely stupid. Now he and Chekov are in hiding in an abandoned office building. The younger man has a badly sprained ankle, possibly a break from the escape, and Spock's own is aching badly. And it's getting dark.

"Mr. Spock, I can not communicate with any of the others. It may be where they are or ..."

"Understood, Mr. Chekov. Keep our frequency out there,"

"Yes, sir,"

Other than that, the two do not talk to much. Chekov busies himself with finding out where they are and boosting the communication signal with scraps of old computers strewn about the place. Spock helps him with that, and wraps Chekov's ankle as best he can. He wants to get him to McCoy for proper treatment.

"Mr. Spock," Chekov begins quietly.

"Is the wrapping too tight? I believe in such instances, support is what it needs until we can have McCoy check it,"

"No, sir. I mean, it is getting dark outside...really dark,"

Spock nods. The odds of them successfully getting back with the others or to a bunker, with their current injuries are far too low.

"We will camp here tonight, and leave in first light. Do we have adequate power to keep the frequency running?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Spock. We will be operational, as long as the computer components hold. Some of them could be salvaged for future use too,"

"Salvaging some should be a priority, once we meet back up with the others,"

"Yes, sir,"

Chekov smiled. He loved to be of use. At least this time, there was a possibility of helping the settlement, even in a small way. He hobbled over to another and took out the necessary components to keep the frequency open using the last light of the day to its fullest. He did not make small talk like he would have if anyone else had been there. Spock was not one for conversation aside from that was needed.

Spock found blankets and some cushions from chairs to serve as their beds. He arranged them side by side while Chekov readied the battery to the frequency generator.

"Rest, Chekov. I will take first watch. Your injuries require it,"

Chekov does not argue and let's Spock ease him down. Arguing with with the man would be useless. Spock is too smart. Chekov vaguely wonders what he was before the dead rose. A teacher, perhaps? He closes his eyes to the image of Spock at a blackboard.

The night is very still and very quiet. It is a wonder that he was awoken. He doesn't move much – just barely enough to look about the room. There is no Spock in sight.

"You should be resting, Mr. Chekov," came Spock's groggy voice from behind him. "Fog has set in, so a secondary watch is not necessary, now rest,"

"But, Mr. Spock..."

"Shhhh...Rest,"

Spock leans in closer to Chekov, and hugs their bodies together for a moment as he places his lips to the boy's neck. The kiss is easy and soothing, maybe even natural?

Spock's hypothesis is correct. Chekov stills and his body relaxes in the embrace. They sleep until the light from the sun wakes them.

Kirk:

"So you have never, ya know? Played this game?"

Kirk motions to the empty bottle on its side. Chekov's look is priceless. They are in a circle in hut that Chekov, McCoy, and Kirk share. McCoy is still at the clinic with Nurse Chapel, while Uhura, and Spock are on a patrol.

"What sort of game do you play with a bottle?"

"You are absolutely precious, Chekov,"

"Do they not have spin the bottle in Russia?" Scotty pipes in.

Sulu, a pretty blonde named Janice, Kirk, Chekov, and Scotty all sit in a circle around the bottle. The Scotsman is passing around his flask, and most of them are already tipsy.

"Don't worry, the game is super easy. Genius like you, should be cake,"

The flask is passed to Chekov, who takes a swig. It burns, but he is getting used to it. There is not much else to do at the settlement some days.

"I would like to play,"

"Then I will show you how it is done,"

Kirk grins and gingerly spins the bottle. It is a little wobbly as it takes the clockwise path. It gradually slows, its opening pointing at Janice. She grins, and puckers up.

"So, Chekov, I spun the bottle and it landed on Janice. It means I kiss Janice. We can up the stakes as we go on. See, absolute cake,"

Kirk kisses Janice lightly, almost innocently. She looks like she is about to pout, but spins the bottle ample force. It shakes a little and lands on Sulu. Janice is rougher than Kirk was, and presses firmly into the man. Their mouths go at it for a bit, before Sulu nibbles at her lip and grabs the bottle. In in an instant, it is in motion.

It continues like this for a little while, everyone has just about kissed everyone except for Chekov. He does not know if he should be glad or disappointed. They have finished off the flask and working on a bottle of something vaguely berry flavored.

"I think it is high time we up the stakes here. Next one is seven minutes. Chekov, this means the person it lands on goes into the closet with me for seven minutes, and we see what happens,"

"Kirk, I know what that is. I have made out with someone before. We just didn't waste our time with bottles,"

"Oooh, alcohol got you riled?"

Kirk gives the bottle a hard twist and it is set in motion. He eyes Chekov, and smirks. For a small eternity, the bottle is moving and Chekov's stomach is in a knot. Now is when Kirk had to look at him like that, like a wolf that has just spotted Little Red Ridinghood coming down the road and the bottle stops on him.

"Ooo, look at that?"

Chekov takes a long swig of the drink and swallows before looking over to Kirk. Damn. He is handsome, with those clear blue eyes and blond hair. He let's the man help him up and lead him to the closet on the side of the room.

"Alrighty, lads. Let's have a good clean one. Seven minutes are go," Scotty says after he shuts the door on them.

It's dark and cramped and Kirk has not taken his hand from Chekov's. The Russian is too cute, all nervous and innocent. He takes the plunge and grabs Chekov, one hand coasts down to the small of the boys back while the other takes a firm hold of his curls.

"Ready?"

He would never force anyone. He wants Chekov to relax and to think about something other than the day to day struggle of living. If only for a minute. Chekov nods and licks his lips. It's invitation enough. He presses in to Chekov, and let's his hands roam freely. After a few moments, the boy is mirroring his actions. When Kirk slides his tongue into the kiss, he is met with little resistance. They explore before parting for air.

"See, not so bad, huh?"

Chekov:

It is cold. Chekov knows cold, he is from Russia. This. This is frigid, the the bite of winter itself. It is one of the odd things about their current place of residence. The seasons seem to have gone haywire. He longs to study it, perhaps with Mr. Spock, but all Chekov can honestly think about is curling up and trying not to freeze.

"You should be sleeping, laddie,"

"So should you,"

"Aye, dad'blasted cold is keeping me awake,"

Chekov nods. He is glad that he is able to stay with Scotty while Kirk has his cold. Normally, you would not think a cold so bad, but their lives are never normal now... McCoy and Chapel are the only ones who are allowed to see him until he is better.

"That, and I am so used to Kirk snoring..."

Scotty smiles and turns to look at Chekov. The boy's eyes are skyward , out a high window, where a faint glimmer of stars can be made out.

"Mr. Scott, I have an idea. I think it will help us to combat this cold, and get rest,"

"I am up for anything, lad. Me mum would say that it is colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra in here,"

"That is odd image... but I think if we combine our blankets we can cover ourselves with more layers. Our close proximity would use our natural body heat to our advantage,"

He did have to say it like that. Is that how Spock asks Uhura to snuggle? Scotty rolled his eyes at the thought. Still, laying next to Chekov had those advantages and a few other perks in his books. The boy was very easy on the eyes and quite the little mastermind on operations. He was too old for crushes but... Chekov made it hard, in more ways than one.

"Sounds logical, let's get warm,"

A little shuffling later and they had maneuvered every blanket on to both of them. Chekov had wrapped them up together, not exactly tight, but so they were very close together. They faced each other while they rearranged themselves and got comfortable.

"Thank you," Chekov started, "See much warmer now, yes?"

"Aye, good lad,"

A spell of silence falls between them as they shift again, a little closer than before. It is perfect, and slowly Chekov leans in and places his lips on Scotty's. Their kiss is smooth and satisfying.

There is the thrill of it, making his heart pound. Chekov is kissing him. Bloody hell. He kisses back, softly. If this is a dream, it's the best one he's had in a long time.


End file.
